Hazy Shade of Winter
by Suz Singer
Summary: "Hang onto your hopes, my friend. That's an easy thing to say," If only you'd seen what I've seen. Felt what I've felt. I can't simply pretend, I won't pretend that hope hasn't left me far behind. They call me Jinx, for all I've got is bad luck. (Sabretooth daughter fic / eventual Marvel cross-over)
1. Chapter 1

**Part 1**

**Chapter 1**

* * *

**1993**

* * *

Cleo Tyler didn't know how it'd come to this. She'd made the best out of her sad life, always thinking of herself as a survivor. As a prostitute, what other choice did she have? There was very little that she regretted. The only john she'd ever regretted had brought her to this – staring at the yowling creature in the backseat, that, for the last five years, Cleo had called a daughter.

Penny was a beautiful little girl, Cleo couldn't deny. She'd inherited Cleo's rust-colored waves and fair, freckled skin. The dark hazel eyes, however, belonged to her father. A man that Cleo _still_ had nightmares about, could _still_ feel the sharp pinch of his claws on her hips. The man had been a monster, a _mutant_. A trait he'd passed down to Penny.

Cleo, before she'd met Victor Creed, had considered herself progressive. She hadn't given mutants much thought, but she thought they should have their rights, _of_ _course_, and met a few mutants over the course of her twenty years of living, but she had never thought of them much. After Victor had engaged her services for a night, that all had changed. Though he'd paid her well, she'd required an ER visit after he'd been satisfied. It'd taken months for the claw gouges on her hips to heal.

And then she'd found out she was pregnant. Despite the condom. Despite her birth control. She'd been terrified those nine months, terrified that the child would be like him. The hope that the child would be normal hadn't stayed her hand from having the pregnancy aborted. She'd tried. It didn't take. And when Penny was born, she _was_ entirely normal. Or so Cleo had thought.

For five years, Cleo had raised her daughter as well as she could. She'd stopped prostituting and started stripping – it was safer, though she made less money. It had been worth it. Penny was all she loved in this world. She'd been a clever, mischievous little girl whose constant, joyous laughter rang throughout their home.

A few months after Penny turned five, she started to change. Her fingernails had sharpened and turned black. Her canine incisors had lengthened and sharpened. Cleo wished _that_ was the most alarming change. Penny stopped speaking entirely and began to act like an animal. Instead of asking for a juice like she would have just a few months earlier, Penny would yowl and try to find the food herself. She'd claw and bite Cleo if she cornered her, easily drawing blood. Penny was suddenly much stronger than a five-year-old should be.

And with that, all of Cleo's buried fears came back. Her child was a _mutant_. Like the man that had brutalized her. But still Cleo tried. Affection was met with clawing. Foods Penny used to love were thrown at the wall. Her daughter would no longer speak. Cleo had grown desperate.

No one could help Penny. She couldn't be sent to school this way. She wasn't thriving with Cleo. And Cleo, well, she couldn't take it anymore. So she'd packed her yowling daughter into the backseat of the car, strapped her into a seat (braving the girl's claws), and left Chicago, heading north.

Cleo drove for hours and hours, until she reached a forest in Southern Wisconsin. Her daughter was a wild animal. She'd survive better in the woods than with her mother. So Cleo had let Penny out of the car to explore. She watched as the little girl scampered about, looking joyous for the first time in months.

That made the guilt a little less sharp when Cleo got into her car and drove off. Leaving Penny there alone. In her rearview mirror, she saw her daughter had stilled, staring in her direction. The tears came. Cleo stepped on the gas.

* * *

**1994**

* * *

Charles Xavier frowned as he focused on the signal he felt, with the help of Cerebro. A lone mutant child, in an uninhabited area, with no other life signatures – no mutant or otherwise. He could feel the child's mind, buried beneath stress and the need to survive. She was young. No more than five, maybe six. He lifted the helmet from his head and set it down. He left Cerebro, calling out telepathically for Scott and Jean to meet him in his office.

His eldest students had arrived in Charles' office before he did. Their expressions were concerned and inquisitive. Scott Summers and Jean Grey had become teachers at Xavier's school after they'd graduated, devoted to the cause of protecting and nurturing young, vulnerable mutants. "What is it, Professor?" Jean asked, scarlet brows furrowed.

"While I was using Cerebro, I found something troubling. There is a young mutant child, no more than six, wandering alone in a forest in Southern Wisconsin." Charles shared, his troubled expression quickly shared by the others.

"Alone? For how long?" Scott asked.

"I cannot be sure. But her mind is… clouded. Bogged down by survival. She has reverted to a more animal-like state,"

"Her mutation?" Jean asked, brow wrinkled.

"Physical, so far as I can tell. I could sense no extra mental processes. She was likely abandoned there. There is no time to waste, I would have you two go find her and bring her here," Charles answered.

"Of course, Professor. We'll suit up and take the Blackbird out right away," Scott said, guiding his girlfriend from the room.

"Be careful!" Charles called.

* * *

**_Elsewhere…._**

* * *

Eric Lensherr, or Magneto, as he preferred to be called, sat at his desk inside the Brotherhood headquarters. This was his leisure time – and instead of studying chess strategies for his next match with Charles, he had decided to read the latest mystery bestseller. He felt as if his mind was growing clogged, seldom having a good idea for his cause. So instead of thinking constantly about his cause, he decided to let his mind escape into a novel for a little while each day, hoping it would help him plan.

He was rarely disturbed in these times. Only one person was brave enough. Mystique – the blue-skinned woman who had become Magneto's right hand – entered his office. She seemed pleased with herself. "Yes?" he asked, not looking up from his novel.

"The bug you placed in Xavier's office revealed something interesting. A young mutant child abandoned in Southern Wisconsin, with physical mutations." She remarked.

"And I'm sure Charles has sent out some of his X-men to recover the child. Why is this interesting, my dear?" he asked.

"Because it coincides with the rumors I've heard out of that area. Rumors of a child more animal than human. With claws and teeth," Mystique explained, yellow eyes alight with intrigue.

Magneto laid down his book. "A feral," he mused.

"And we know another feral who would pay a fortune for news of another like him. Who knows, you might even get him to commit to the Brotherhood,"

"Sabretooth." Magneto murmured. "That's right. He became aware of a child resulting from a dalliance with a prostitute, didn't he? The child disappeared last year?"

"Yes," Mystique confirmed. "He's been searching for his spawn since,"

Magneto reached for his phone and dialed a familiar number. The phone rang twice before being sent to voicemail. "Hello, Sabretooth. It's been a while. Mystique and I… have come into some information we thought you'd be interested in. A young feral child has been sighted. I thought an… exchange of services might be appropriate for such valuable information." Magneto spoke slow, and deliberately, before hanging up.

"I give it five minutes before he calls back," Mystique wagered.

"I'd say less," he replied, his gaze not leaving the phone. It was two minutes before the phone began to ring.

Magneto plucked up the phone and brought it to his ear. "_What do you want._" A low, growling voice demanded.

The old man smiled. "How about a pledge of loyalty to the Brotherhood?" Magneto suggested in a cheerful tone.

"_I pledge loyalty to no one. I'll promise you one mission, pro bono." _Victor Creed growled.

"One mission; if it extends to when my immediate goal is reached,"

There was a loud growl of frustration on the other end. "_Fine. Tell me where the cub was sighted,_" he ordered.

"Southern Wisconsin," Magneto answered, looking to Mystique as she stepped closer.

"In the Kettle Moraine State Park," she supplemented, narrowing the search down.

"Looks as if she was abandoned there," Magneto remarked, only to hear a furious growl before the dial tone.

* * *

**8 hours later**

* * *

**_Kettle Moraine State Park – Wisconsin_**

Jean and Scott arrived and found the child was not easily found. She didn't come when they called – not that they _had _a name to call her by – and anytime they thought they were getting close, she scurried off, faster than Scott or Jean could grab her.

"We won't hurt you, sweetheart, we just want to help you!" Jean called, after nearly four hours of chasing the child.

The girl was thin, covered in dirt, blood and torn clothing. It was amazing she was still alive after a year alone in the wild.

"We're going to have to trap her, Jean," Scott murmured lowly as they started after the girl, yet again.

Jean didn't reply, simply working her legs harder to try and keep up with the little girl. What they found through the next copse of trees shocked them to their core.

Someone had gone ahead and caught the little girl. She now dangled a few feet above the ground by her collar, yowling and swiping at the man who'd caught her, and now held her away from his body to avoid her sharp little claws.

Claws that he shared. The man was somewhat familiar – with short, thick brown hair and muttonchop sideburns, tall and thickly built. He growled at the sight of Jean and Scott, showing his fangs. It was Scott who recognized him.

"What does the _Brotherhood_ want with a little kid, Sabretooth?" Scott spit out, derisively.

Victor Creed laughed. "The Brotherhood don't want this kid. _I_ do. Since she's _mine_," he retorted, a little growl in his voice.

Jean and Scott gaped at each other for a long moment before turning back to the little girl and her supposed father. Creed was looking at the little girl he held with a certain curiosity, as if searching for similarities in their features. There wasn't much, aside from their eyes. And the mutation, of course.

"She's your daughter?" Jean says, dumbfounded. Creed nodded, eyes not lifting from the stare he held with the girl. "Then why has she been wandering the woods alone for who knows how long?" she questioned, accusingly.

"It ain't any of your business, _frail_," Victor spat, eyes narrowing. Scott's hand darted up to the dial on his goggles, readying himself. Victor's eyes slid to him. "You ain't gonna hurt me, I'm holding the kid," he pointed out.

Victor sighed. "Look, X-geeks, I didn't even know about the kid till last year. And by then, she'd already disappeared. Her mother just abandoned her here. I started looking as soon as I found out. I just found a lead eight hours ago," he remarked. "I came, found my cub, and I'd like to leave now," he continued, icily.

"You think the Brotherhood is really the place to raise a child?" Scott asked, brows furrowed in concern.

Victor laughed. "I ain't taking her there. I ain't gonna raise no cub there," he said, snorting in derision.

"I think the school would be a better place for her, you could come too-" Jean began, cut off by the guffawing laughter of the other man. With the split-second distraction, the child ripped out of Creed's grip and tore off into the brush. Swearing lowly, Victor turned on his heel and went after her, Jean and Scott in pursuit as well.

Unlike Jean and Scott, Victor seemed to know exactly where he was going. Since he was able to smell the girl, he definitely had the advantage over the other two. He ran through the brush, stopping dead quite suddenly – Jean had to grab Scott by the collar to make sure he didn't crash into the other man.

Victor sniffed at the air for a long moment, before he cut to the right and headed for a blackened, hollow tree about fifteen yards away. There was a hole just big enough for a child to crawl into at the base. "Come out, cub," he growled, crouching at the base of the tree, his trench coat brushing the ground.

There was no response, only a rustling noise coming from within, and then a light scratching as if claws on the wood. Victor cast an eye back towards Jean and Scott before an odd noise began to come from his throat and chest, almost a humming. The noise from within the tree stopped. Victor hummed louder, and louder, until Jean realized it was _purring_.

Victor Creed was _purring_, like a cat, trying to draw the animal-like child from her hiding spot. With shock, Jean and Scott saw it was working – a peek of pale skin coming towards the tree's opening. Her wide eyes glancing cautiously up at Creed. He didn't move, only kept _purring_, waiting patiently as the girl inched closer and closer.

Finally, when the girl was just inches from his chest, Victor wrapped his arms around her, pulling the coat over her, so she was shielded from the cold. He stood slowly, and she did not struggle, so long as he continued to purr. With her so close, the throaty noise was quieter, and with her ear against his chest, she heard it easily. It soothed her.

Scott and Jean looked at the man in astonishment. "It's a feral thing," he said, one arm holding the girl to his chest, and the other clawed hand cradling her head. "As you can see, you can't handle the cub. Only another feral can. And I'm the only one left." This was said with bitterness, like it wasn't always that way. "She's _my_ cub anyway, so you have no claim,"

"Your _claim_ isn't legal," Jean pointed out.

Victor growled. "Look, the cub's at a wild stage. She'd hurt people at your school. She needs someone like herself to show her how to act." he explained, surprisingly making a lot of sense.

"And you think you're the good example?" Scott snorted.

"I can teach her to control herself. Be both animal and human, not just one of the two. That's more than you can say, ain't it?" Victor shot back.

"And you promise she'll be cared for? Warm, fed, and happy?" Jean probed.

"I brought her into this world, that means I'm responsible for her. It's a man's duty to make sure his line carries on." Victor retorted.

"I suppose that's the closest we can get to a promise," Jean acknowledged, glancing to Scott, who grudgingly nodded.

Victor smirked. "You can tell your Professor X-geek that she's mine. And in a while, well, I'll be sure to keep you in mind if I need a babysitter," he teased, before going on his way – child wrapped in his arms, purr in his throat.

* * *

Victor Creed brought his daughter home. To Canada. A cabin built in the same spot he had lived as a child. His half-brother's family was long gone, off to greener pastures, if they hadn't simply died out. Victor didn't care much, one way or another.

The cabin didn't see much use, but it seemed appropriate to bring his child there to raise her. The place was dusty and dark when he led her inside, but that hadn't stopped the girl from rushing around, touching and sniffing each and every new object she could find. Victor closed the door and found the light switches, flicking them on.

The girl froze underneath the bright lights, quickly taking shelter underneath the nearest couch. With a sigh, Victor walked over. "This is your home now, cub. There's nothing you need to hide from here," he remarked, crouching down to catch the girl's eyes. She began to inch towards him, before hesitating. Victor let a low purr escape his throat, and the cub immediately scrambled into his outstretched arms.

She pressed her ear to his chest, feeling the vibration of the purr. Closing his arms around her, Victor straightened to shift onto the couch. She let out a murmur of discontent when the purr stopped, her little claws hooking into the fabric of his shirt. "Listen, cub," he began, glancing down to see her eyes glazed over, unseeing.

He repeated his words, knocking a knuckle against her chin. The hazel eyes he'd passed down to her focused on his face. "You are my cub. A Creed. You are the predator, not the prey. You will not hide anymore. You will speak," he informed her. The girl just looked up at him balefully. "Come on, let's get you a bath and then some food in your belly," he said, carrying the girl into a bathroom.

Trying to bathe the child was like fighting a wildcat – she didn't want to take off her rags, and she certainly wanted nothing to do with the water. Victor had done it though, growling and snapping at the cub till she settled – that didn't stop him from being drenched at the end, though. He'd given her a shirt of his to wear since he had nothing else to dress her in. It was amusing, at least, to see the girl prance around in a shirt that brushed her ankles, seeming rather happy with herself now that she was clean.

A quick inspection of the fridge and pantry yielded nothing – as expected – he took his phone out and ordered for them to be stocked. Victor knew the people he'd called would handle it quickly, quicker than if he'd ordered prepared food – and his cub was hungry. He'd heard the growling of her stomach not long ago, and even if it didn't seem to bother her, the animal in him roared in fury at the fact his cub had been so ill cared for.

After ordering food, he called another contact. "I need the cabin to be thoroughly cleaned and restored, top to bottom, tomorrow morning. Send another employee to procure furniture and clothes for a girl child. Just over a meter tall, weighing twenty kilograms. Books as well. Everything a child needs." He ordered. The person on the other end of the call quickly agreed, knowing that they would be well-rewarded for their efforts.

As Victor pocketed the phone, the lights flickered for a moment, and his cub let out a pained yowl. His head shot in her direction, only to see her dart away from an outlet, quickly colliding with his leg, hugging it tightly. He reached down and grabbed the hand she cradled, seeing the blackened tip of her finger – she'd stuck her finger in the outlet. Victor shook his head, watching with interest as it healed before his eyes.

"Now you've learned something, cub. Don't go sticking your finger in those outlets," he said, letting his fingers pass through her damp hair. She looked up at him, giving him a slight whimper as she nodded. "You're like me, cub. Hurts go away fast. Doesn't mean you shouldn't take care," he said, bending low, to draw her into his arms.

She came easily now, recognizing him by scent as her blood, her father. The animal in her saw him as her alpha, too. Victor had expected more difficulty with that, but the girl had proved eager. It was in her nature to seek out care from _someone_. Pity she was left alone for a year before he'd been able to find her.

"Food will be here soon," he promised, brushing his hand up her back. He carried her to the couch and set her down. Her tiny hands tried to hold onto him, but he brushed them off as he reached for a blanket to spread over her. "Rest for a while, until it's time to eat," he bade her, and she reluctantly settled. He moved about the room trying to set things in order. All the while, he could feel her eyes on him. She hadn't so much as shifted, but her eyes tracked his every move.

Within an hour, the food arrived. As soon as the workers came in, the girl shot into the other room. Victor left her. He concentrated on getting food ready for her to eat – taking two steaks and throwing them in a skillet to cook. Meat alone would suffice for filling her stomach – she needed it more than anything else. Ferals needed the extra iron.

With the smell of cooking meat in the air, the girl ventured from her hiding place. She hugged the door frame, eyes darting from person to person as they carried in groceries and put them away in the cupboards. When she judged it to be an opportune time, she darted out and across the room to Victor's side. Her tiny clawed hands gripped at the counter above her head, stretching onto the tips of her toes to peer up at the steaks Victor was cooking.

"Soon, cub, soon." Victor spoke, shifting a hand to cup the back of her head for a moment. A low whine escaped her throat, looking up to her father with wide, pleading eyes. "You heard me." He grumbled.

By the time the steaks were ready, the staff had left. They had wiped off the dusty table and set out plates and flatware before they left. "Go sit at the table," Victor ordered the girl. She let out another whine, to which Victor responded with a growl. This sent the girl scurrying towards the table and clambering into a seat. "Good cub," he said, taking her plate from the table to put the steak on it.

As he walked back, the girl seemed to be vibrating with excitement. Before he would put the plate down, he fixed the girl with his gaze. "Ask for it." He ordered. Another whine left the girl's mouth, and her skinny arms reached out for the food. "Use your words, cub, or you won't eat." Victor said.

The girl glared at him knowingly. The words, even though they were not many, were in her head. She hadn't had to use them in over a year. The words came up like a burn in her throat. "_Food_…please," she said, voice croaking with disuse.

Victor set the plate down in front of her. "There. That wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked, ruffling her hair. The girl just flashed him a baleful glare as she immediately set to eating the steak with her bare hands. She winced at the heat, and Victor sighed. "Use the fork and knife." he told her, gesturing to the utensils next to her plate. The girl fingered them cautiously, before raising a confused expression to her father. He sighed again and picked them up and began to cut the steak into smaller, bite-size pieces for his girl.

Her mother had probably always spoon-fed the girl before she'd abandoned her – thus she had no concept of how to use utensils. Using the fork to spear a chunk, Victor held it to the girl's mouth. She looked at him strangely but leaned forward and used her teeth to pull the steak chunk off the fork and quickly chew and swallow it down. Victor speared another chunk and set it down on her plate. The girl looked at him for but a moment before she picked the fork up tentatively and brought the food to her mouth. "Good girl." he said, patting her on the head before grabbing his own plate to bring his steak to the table.

The girl ate quickly, no doubt hungry from her time in the wild. She cleaned her plate before Victor was halfway done with his and scampered off the chair to continue roaming the house. He watched curiously as she investigated the space, hands tracing the fabrics of the curtains, chairs, or couches. Victor glanced to the clock. It was getting late, he was surprised the girl hadn't already fallen asleep from the stress of the day. Her belly was full. It wouldn't be long now.

After a few minutes, she returned to Victor, carefully climbing into his lap as he ate. "Getting tired, cub?" he asked, pressing one hand against her back as she pressed her head to his chest and curled up there. She made a sleepy noise, her eyes beginning to droop. Victor finished eating before he stood, arms careful to keep the girl from tumbling to the floor. He carried her into his bedroom – the only furnished one, that is, and tucked her into the admittedly dusty linens. One night in that for a child that couldn't get sick wouldn't hurt. He had trouble untangling her sharp little claws from his shirt, even though she slept quite deeply.

Once he had laid her down, Victor went to change into a pair of pajamas. As he took off his shirt, he discovered many tiny holes in the fabric – no doubt from the girl's claws. Once changed, he slipped into the bed beside the girl, who immediately wriggled over to cuddle close to her father. Victor allowed his arms to close around her, holding her tight with the top of her head brushing his chin. His clawed fingers pinched gently at the back of her neck.

It had been a long day for them both, and Victor could admit to himself that he was a little emotionally wrought. He'd finally found his cub, and it sort of felt like it did when he'd had to care for Logan so many years ago. It was only with a child that he felt needed. Especially a feral child. No one else could possibly care for the child like he could.

It was then that Victor came to an alarming discovery.

He didn't know his own daughter's name.

* * *

**Been holding onto this for a long time. It will eventually be a marvel crossover, but I figured I'd leave it in the xmen category until then.**

**Review, please tell me what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 1**

**Chapter 2**

**2 years later – The Canadian Wilds**

**1996**

For two years, Victor had stayed with his cub. He didn't take a single job. He never left his cub. She flourished under his care. He taught her how to be both human and animal, to be strong. To be proud of what she was.

The morning after he'd found her, he'd asked her name. But she didn't remember. A year in the wilds all alone had wiped her memory. He didn't mean to not give her a name. He just always called her 'cub' and nothing else sounded right.

He still hadn't named her.

The eight-year-old still didn't talk much, but Victor didn't mind. He wasn't much for conversation, all he cared about was that she knew how. He hired private tutors to teach her math and how to read, while he taught her how to survive in the wild by taking her into the woods every weekend.

Of all the things Victor provided for her, it was the learning she loved the most. She was always reading. Anything she could get her hands on. In two years, Victor had to have purchased at least two hundred books to furnish the bookshelves that lined a wall of her bedroom.

He may not be a sentimental man, or even a kind one, but Victor believed himself to be a good father. His cub never showed any inkling of fear towards him, always eager to curl up beside him and read. He was the first one she came to if something happened, or she needed something, and always placed herself in his arms with an absolute trust.

Every night Victor sat in his recliner and his cub would curl up beside him and read. He rarely read to her since she'd learned how, so instead she read from her latest novel for a while until she grew tired. He didn't listen much to the words, but instead to the cadence of his girl's voice. She had a sweet voice, even for a kid. It made him feel calm.

Tonight, she read to him from a book about a girl raised in the African Savana by her father, a lion caretaker. Her name was Leonora. _"Her father called her name, 'Leonora! Leonora!' and she jumped up from where she was sitting by the lion enclosure. Her father was running toward her with a worried expression. 'What is it, Dad?' Leo asked. 'Nala got out of the enclosure! You haven't seen her, have you?'"_ she read out loud, her tiny hands tracing each line as she read.

A noise from Victor's throat caused her to pause, and glance up to him. He carefully took the book from her hands and placed it over the arm of the chair. "We need to talk, cub," he remarked, clawed fingers moving to pinch lightly at the back of her neck. A familiar gesture. She didn't mind the sign of her father's protectiveness.

"What is it?" she asked, raising her head from where it rested against his chest.

"I've taken a job. I'll be gone for a few weeks," he informed her. By his expression, she could see that he didn't like it.

"Who will take care of me?" she asked, brows wrinkled in confusion.

"I'm going to take you to a special school, cub. Full of people like us, sort of. They're mutants. They'll keep you safe when I'm not around." Victor explained.

"Why do you have to go? Why can't _you_ keep me safe?" she questioned, her plump lower lip pushed out. His cub was pouting, something she rarely did.

Victor grimaced. "I gotta work, cub. And you need to meet other people. This time, it'll be only a few weeks. But soon, you'll have to go to a real school. You're already smarter than all the tutors I found for you," he said. The look she fixed him with was nothing less than furious.

After several moments of prolonged silence, she finally spoke. "When do we leave?"

**Xavier's School for Exceptional Children**

**Westchester County, New York**

Victor Creed walked his daughter up to the door of Xavier's school, keeping a firm grip on the back of her neck. When they'd gotten out of the car, she'd tried to make a break for it. He'd been less than pleased to have to catch her. He had her petite suitcase in one hand and held onto her with the other, making sure she didn't run off again.

The front door opened before he even could raise his hand to knock. It was the same two X-Geeks that he'd met in the woods two years ago, chasing down his girl. "Well, lookie who it is, cub," Victor said dryly. "It's the two creeps that chased you around the woods before I found you," he continued, earning a befuddled look from the girl.

Jean Grey and Scott Summers traded a disgruntled look. "All we knew was that she was alone. We were trying to help," Scott said, glaring at Victor.

Instead of looking at Victor, Jean looked to the girl. "It's nice to see you again, sweetheart. What's your name?" she asked. The girl furrowed her brows and looked up to her father, who looked at her with a similar expression. Jean's pleasant look quickly turned to one of concern. "Creed, what's her name?" she repeated.

Victor didn't tear his gaze away from his daughter's. "Leonora," he said after a long moment. "Leonora Creed." With that, his cub smiled up at him, apparently finding the name pleasing. He turned to look at Jean and Scott. "I need a babysitter," he said with a hint of a smirk.

"We'd be happy to look after her, of course," Jean said at once, while Scott took notice of the suitcase dangling from Victor's grip.

"How long are you planning to be gone?" Scott asked, brow wrinkled.

"A few weeks. I've got business to take care of." Victor replied with a roll of his eyes.

"Come on inside, Leonora, I'll show you around," Jean said, offering her hand.

The newly named Leonora glanced up at her father, expression uncertain. "Go," he told her. Her gaze didn't waver, her grip tightening on the three fingers she could grasp with her tiny hand. Victor let a growl build in his throat, inaudible to the others. "Cub," he said warningly.

Leonora fixed her father with an inscrutable look before dropping his hand and reluctantly taking Jean's. The red-haired woman led the girl into the mansion, leaving Scott alone with Victor. The two men remained silent for several long moments before speaking.

"Where are you going?" Scott asked, almost congenially.

"A job." Victor retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. The polite look vanished from the other man's face. He knew exactly what type of job Victor typically held.

Scott mirrored his posture, his arms crossing over his chest. "Why not take Leonora with you?" He asked, tone dry and sarcastic.

Victor rolled his eyes, smirk crossing his face. Fangs peaked through his lips. "Yes, I think I'll bring my eight-year-old. What a great idea," he replied, just as scornfully. A growl filtered through his lips. "If anything happens to her…"

Scott exhaled, pushing off from the doorjamb he leaned against. "You know, above all, we'd protect her," he said. "Even with you as a father,"

Victor lifted an eyebrow. "You discriminatin' here, X-geek?" He asked, the show of his fangs much less friendly this time. Scott seemed to pale. "Look see here, _boy_, my cub's a lot better off than a lot of your kiddos. She's got me to protect her and teach her how to be a feral. _I_ provide for my cub," he growled.

"Yeah, I'm sure you're a _great_ father," Scott said foolishly.

Victor stepped closer, growl emitting from his throat. "You wanna keep that hand, _boy_?"

The blood drained from Scott's face as he paused in raising his hand towards his red-tinted glasses. Victor rolled his eyes, shoving past him to enter the school. The red-headed frail, Jean, was leading his cub up the stairs.

Leonora's eyes darted all over, wide and alarmed. There were a lot of people. A lot of smells. He could see she was overwhelmed. Jean didn't seem oblivious to it, her voice kept sweet and soft, trying to reassure his cub.

In thirty seconds, Victor's long strides caught him up to the two frails, at the top of the stairwell. The cub quickly peeled away from Jean, darting over to throw her arms around her father. Jean blinked in surprise as Victor patted the back of her head gently, allowing Leonora to calm herself.

"I'm not sure why she's so anxious, I-" Jean said, looking regretful.

"Her senses are heightened," Victor replied, eyes fixed on his daughter as she reached out to him, pleading to be picked up. "Too many people. Scents, sounds. She's never been near anything like this," he said, sighing as he allowed the girl to scramble up in his arms. "You're too big for this, cub," Victor murmured to her, even as Leonora lay her head on his shoulder.

Jean watched in interest and surprise as the terrifying, infamous mutant called Sabretooth comforted his cub. "I didn't know. I'll watch out for that," she said as Scott approached, putting an arm around Jean's waist. "Here, let me show you where Leonora'll be staying," Jean said, gesturing for them to follow.

Victor followed leisurely, his cub's long, coltish legs knocking about his hips as he carried her. He purred inaudibly to comfort her, just loud enough to make his chest rumble. Leonora pressed her ear against his shoulder, sighing lightly in ease. The scent of her anxiety was still bitter in the air.

The room the red-headed frail showed them would do. It was small, with a single twin bed pressed against the wall. It was painted a cheerful yellow, with hardwood trim. She would do just fine here. Victor set her down there, even with her greedy little claws trying to hold onto him. He was sure there were plenty of little pinprick holes in his shirt. Half his wardrobe had gone down that way.

Jean set the little suitcase down on the bed. "This is where you'll sleep, sweetheart. Scott and I are just across the hall, so if you need anything, we'll be right there," she said, kind smile echoed by Scott. Leonora gave a slow nod, all but hiding herself within Victor's long coat.

Victor pushed her out with a light tap. "Explore the room, cub," he said, peeling her clingy hands from his leg. Reluctantly, Leonora slunk away, starting by checking beneath the bed, then the closet.

He turned his gaze to the red-headed pair. "Leonora needs meat, protein, in every meal. She's a carnivore, first and foremost, and she doesn't need anything else as much as she needs the iron," he informed the pair. Jean nodded, her brow furrowing. "I told you our senses are heightened. And Leonora's never been around this many people before, and it's an unfamiliar place," he began, the cub in question slinking back over to him.

Tall as Creed was, his daughter was tiny in comparison. At eight years old, the top of her head was only about level with his belly button. She clung to his leg, arms wrapped around his upper thigh. Victor reached down, patting her head lightly without looking down at her. "When she's overwhelmed, she'll run and hide," Victor continued.

"We understand," Jean said. "We'll watch out for her, Mr. Creed," she promised, politely.

"Does she speak?" Scott asked suddenly.

Victor glared in his direction before glancing down to his cub. Leonora had never been a chatterbox, but she often bothered him with relentless questions and chatter when the mood struck her. But she hadn't spoken a word since they'd gotten here. "Well?" He said, directing the question to her.

"Yes," Leonora said finally, looking resentful that she'd been targeted. "I can talk," she continued, eyeing Scott with dislike. Victor had never felt closer to her, hand resting on the back of her neck.

Scott's eyebrows rose, mouth falling open. Jean quickly moved to intercede. "So we've got a shy girl here. What do you like to do, Leo? Is it okay if I call you Leo?" The young woman asked, friendly smile curling her lips.

The cub, in turn, seemed to return the look with a measuring gaze. She glanced up to her father for a moment before answering. "Leo's okay." She said without any real enthusiasm.

"She likes to read," Victor offered, a hint of a warm look on his features as he gazed at his daughter. "She'll devour anything you've got," he said, claws pinching lightly on his hold on her neck. Like how a cat would hold its young.

"Then you'll love the library," Jean smiled, offering her hand. "I can show you, if you like," she said.

"Give us a moment to say goodbye," Victor requested. Jean and Scott sidled out a moment later. He crouched down in front of Leonora, catching her eye. "You'll be on your best behavior while you're here," he ordered, and she gave a swift nod. "You are safe here, cub. The people here, you can trust them. They're goodie-goodies,"

"There's so many of them," Leonora breathed, remembering the first moments of entering the mansion. So many scents, noises – so overwhelming, confusing – distracting. Victor nodded. "Is it always like that?" she asked.

Her father nodded again. "It's something you need to get used to, cub. There are lots of people in this world, and you need to be able to walk amongst them. The more you're around other people, the less it'll bother you,"

Leonora gave a slow nod, stepping closer to lean against him. Out of instinct, Victor wrapped an arm around her, letting her sit on his leg. "You've never left me before." She remarked quietly.

"That's because you needed me, cub. Now you're ready. You're a big girl. And, I'm _not_ leaving you. It's just for a little while," he reminded her, tapping a claw against her cheek.

She sighed. "I'll _always_ need you," Leonora pointed out. Victor gave her a light squeeze, pressing his cheek against the top of her head.

"Good," he muttered, before extricating himself from her hold. Leonora let him reluctantly, standing sullenly to the side as her father straightened. Victor cleared his throat, as if to push aside the tender moment. He fixed her with a serious look. "There'll be no clawing. No biting. No yowling or making a fuss. _This_ room will be your safe place. You need to get away from the others, you come _here_. You won't run around this place like a wild animal," he ordered.

Leonora nodded, her eyes on the floor. "But," Victor said, tapping her chin to force her to look up at him. "If someone tries to hurt you, if your instincts tell you they want to…" he trailed off, a toothy grin spreading over his face. "You go ahead and claw their face off, cub,"

**x**

Once Victor had left, Jean had taken Leonora to see the Professor's library. Scott had gone on his own way, having a class to teach. Jean led Leonora through the stacks, her small hand clasped in Jean's larger one.

"Why does he scare you?" the little girl asked suddenly, looking up to Jean expectantly.

The redhead paused, looking at her sharply, surprise clear on her features. "Your dad?" she questioned, her free hand fidgeting with her silver necklace. Leonora nodded primly. "Why do you _think_ he scares me?" Jean avoided answering.

Leonora's hand slipped from hers as she wandered a step or two away from Jean, approaching an old green velvet armchair. She climbed into the seat, trailing a hand delicately along a seam of the fabric of the chair's arm. She leaned over, rubbing her face against the soft fabric, letting out a pleased noise.

Jean couldn't help but smile. "Your heart began to race. You were breathing fast. Your muscles tensed." Leonora said, eyes peeking out from her perch behind the arm of the chair.

"You noticed all that?" Jean asked, shoving her hands into her pocket.

"Why does he scare you?" Leonora asked, patiently repeating her question. She looked like a normal, innocent child curled into that chair – but she was far cleverer, Jean thought. Jean didn't know how to answer her.

"I…don't know," Jean half-lied. "Does he ever scare you?" she asked in return, her eyes intent on the little girl's features.

"No." Leonora answered with absolute certainty.

"Why?"

The little girl shot her a strange look. "Because I know. Something inside me says so," Leonora explained, tapping her chest. "He calls it my animal,"

Jean approached, her brows raised. "What does your animal tell you about him?" she questioned, curiosity piqued.

Leonora was tracing nonsensical patterns into the velvet fabric. "That he'll take care of me. That I'm safe when he's around." she answered without looking up.

"That's good." Jean said, settling down to sit on the floor in front of Leonora. "What does it say about me?" she asked.

The little girl's hazel eyes met Jean's. "Safe."

The redhead exhaled in one long breath. "Good," she said shakily. Jean leaned forward, setting her hand on the velvet cushion before Leonora. "I know that this has to be scary for you, Leo. A new place, Dad's not here… But I've got you, okay?" she promised.

A small hand slipped into Jean's. "Can we read now?"

* * *

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	3. Chapter 3

**Part 1**

**Chapter 3**

**Xavier's School for Exceptional Children**

**Westchester County, New York**

**3 weeks later - 1996**

Over Leonora's three week stay at Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, Leonora adjusted. Of course, the first week had been rough – the changing of classes and sudden influx of people into the hall had sent Leo into a full-blown meltdown. She'd scrambled up the stairs to her room and hid beneath her bed.

It'd taken Jean three hours to coax her out. Then Leo had spent the rest of the day attached to Jean's hip, her little claws hooked into the fabric of Jean's shirt. The discomfort from the school being so big and unfamiliar had caused Leonora to spend more nights curled between Jean and Scott instead of in her own bed.

Towards the end, Scott had been convinced that Leo was only climbing in to mess with him. The smirk the little girl had shot him when he'd whispered his suspicion to Jean had been answer enough for him, even if Jean didn't agree.

It'd been immediately clear to the staff at Xavier's school that Leonora Creed was brilliant. From the way she spoke, at eight years old, had given Jean the first inkling. Then she'd brought Leo to one of her history classes. While all the other students had been a constant distraction, Leonora had found a way.

As Jean taught, Leo hid beneath the heavy wooden desk at the front of class, able to see only Jean and the board. Having Leo's rapt attention directed at her from beneath the desk had kept a smile twitching at Jean's lips the whole time.

After that, Leonora had spent much of her time in the various classes taught there. None of the teachers had seemed to mind the little girl's quirks, or the way she learned. With her eyes fixed on the teacher – or whatever visual aid – chin braced on her hands. Leo just listened. She never uttered a word, she listened and watched, her mouth agape.

* * *

It was a Saturday afternoon when Victor returned, the school grounds full of frolicking teens and adults from Xavier's school. Jean and Scott were taking a leisurely walk, Leonora's each of hands clasped in one of theirs. Every so often, the couple would lift his girl between them and swing her back and forth, earning joyous peals of laughter.

The picture of a perfect family.

It made Victor itchy.

He watched them for a long time, his hands flexing. He knew the exact moment the wind changed and carried his scent to his cub. Leonora froze, her face lifting to sniff the air, delicately.

Then, she'd ripped out of Jean and Scott's grip and tore towards her father like no tomorrow. The couple called after her in alarm, starting to run after her until Victor stepped into view, grinning.

He held his arms out to Leonora as she collided, _hard_, with his stomach – knocking the breath from his lungs. "Cub," Victor rumbled, lifting the girl up in his arms.

"Papa!" she cried, pressing her nose to the crook of his neck, inhaling her father's scent – as if she'd missed him.

"Papa?" Victor questioned, brow furrowing. His cub had never called him much of anything, just like he had never called _her_ anything until three weeks ago.

Leo drew back to look at him. "Jean and I read lots of books while you were gone. I was thinking about names, and there are so many names for a father! I picked yours, Papa, from a book just like you picked mine! Do you like it?" the little girl asked in excitement.

"Ah, yes," he said, gruffly.

"What did _you_ call your father?" Leo asked suddenly.

"Sir."

She chewed on her lip for a moment, clearly thinking it over carefully. "Do you want _me_ to call you sir?"

"No!" Victor said sharply.

"Why?"

The question was asked innocently, but it invoked dark memories of the man in question and the pain he'd inflicted on Victor. He never wanted to be associated with or compared to Thomas Logan. Not as a man.

Certainly not as a father.

"Because I like Papa," Victor answered after a moment of thought, even if it wasn't necessarily true. The brilliant smile on his cub's face that followed told him it was the right answer.

Leonora leaned her head against his shoulder, her arms locking around his neck. "Were they good to you?" Victor asked, eyeing the two X-Geeks.

Jean and Scott hadn't approached the two Ferals, but they were watching. "Yes." Leo answered simply.

"Good," he muttered, starting towards the two adults, his cub clutched close to him.

"Mr. Creed," Jean greeted politely. "If we'd known you were returning today, we would have made sure Leonora was ready to go."

"Do we have to leave right away, Papa? Jean said she'd found a book about the Roman Empire that I'd like," Leo said, lifting her head to fix her pleading gaze on her father.

Victor sighed. "The Professor did want to speak with you, Mr. Creed. I can take you to see him, and Jean can help Leo pack up, and find that book," Scott offered.

"_Please_?" his cub stuck out her bottom lip, doing her best to sway him.

He sighed again and dropped Leo down to her feet. She scampered over to take Jean's hand, and the girls headed inside. Scott held up a questioning hand. "Shall we?" he asked.

Victor growled, stepping forward.

* * *

Professor Charles Xavier was an old, fragile looking man. He sat primly in his wheelchair as he regarded Victor Creed. Victor was tall and brawny, with his dark hair and full sideburns. You would never guess that he was nearly a hundred years older than Xavier.

Scott stood near the door, not looking particularly pleased to be there. He'd gone to step out after he'd shown Victor in, but the Feral had insisted he stay.

After several long moments of silence, Xavier finally spoke. "Your daughter, Leonora, is a pleasure to have in our halls," he said, blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

"I know." Victor said smugly, one leg hitched over the arm of his chair.

"Then you also know how gifted she is," Xavier pointed out. Victor lifted an eyebrow. "Leonora found the classes we offer here quite fascinating. They're high school level,"

"I teach geometry for the 10th grade level. While Leo wasn't familiar with it, she easily grasped the concepts we discussed in class," Scott said, stepping forward to offer his input.

"I know she's smart. What are you trying to get at?" Victor questioned, his brows furrowing.

"We're wondering how you plan to educate Leonora. She's told us you had tutors for her in the past," Xavier explained. "Were you planning to continue educating her at home, or send her here?" he asked, lifting a brow.

Victor straightened, feet hitting the floor. "I planned to send her here," he said.

"She needs the socialization," Scott piped up, earning a glare from the Feral.

"She's still very young," Charles pointed out. "Most of our students are teenagers,"

"I hadn't planned to send her for a few years. Leonora isn't old enough to be away from home for such long periods," Victor said with a frown.

"Emotionally, I completely agree. But intellectually, your daughter is ready to proceed. I hope you will continue her tutoring at home, and bring her here for visits often," the Professor remarked, lifting an expectant brow.

The discussion was beginning to rub Victor the wrong way. He'd tried to be patient, knowing the X-Geeks penchant for lectures. But this was going on longer than he could stand.

He was beginning to feel they were questioning him as a father. Victor knew what was good for his cub. _Only_ he knew what she needed. "I'm losing patience, _Chuck_," he cautioned, teeth gritted.

Scott tensed behind him, and Xavier raised a placating hand. "It's obvious you are a good father, Victor. I did not mean to imply we thought otherwise. Leonora is bright, healthy, and it's clear she adores you," Xavier said in a calm voice.

With that, Victor was able to relax a little, drawing in a breath. "She said often how she missed you," Scott added, hoping to help.

"I'd like to take her home now," Victor said.

"Jean and Leonora are making their way down the stairs right now. They'll join us in just a few moments. You can take her home whenever she's ready,"

Victor sighed, getting to his feet. A moment later, the door opened, and the two redheads entered. Leonora, clutching a book thicker than she was, rushed over to her father, tugging on his long coat and gesturing to the book.

Placing a clawed hand on her back, Victor bent to look at the book, feigning interest for a moment. "We're going home, cub. Say goodbye," he told her, taking the book from her.

With a fleeting pout, Leonora went first to Jean. The young woman bent down, opening her arms for a quick hug. After Jean, Leo moved to Scott next. The man opened his own arms expectantly, only for her to stick out her hand for him to shake.

A bark of laughter left Victor at the befuddled expression on Scott's face. Leo turned a sly look towards her father, making the young man realize she'd done it for her father's amusement.

"Come on, cub. We've got a long car ride ahead of us,"

* * *

"What'd you think of them, Professor?" Scott Summers asked once the Creeds' had safely left Westchester.

"I think that Victor Creed needs his daughter's love every bit as much as Leonora needs his," Xavier began, steepling his hands in front of him. "If someone ever tried to take her from him, he'd burn the whole world to get her back,"

* * *

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	4. Chapter 4

**Part 1**

**Chapter 4**

**The Canadian Wilds**

**1998**

His girl was ten now. She'd grown taller, a little more gangly, and ever closer to the precipice of puberty. Victor dreaded it.

He'd been thirteen when he'd gone through puberty. When he'd begun to grow claws and his teeth began to sharpen. He was thirteen when his mutation had developed.

But, for some reason, Leonora had become feral when she'd been only five. Far before mutants usually developed. On one hand, Victor was thankful it had. If she hadn't developed early, he might never have found her.

But on the other hand, he didn't know what would happen when Leo finally went through puberty. Would she change? Would she develop another mutation?

One was hard enough.

**x**

If Victor decided to be selfish, he'd say that bringing Leonora to Xavier's school – the first time – had been a mistake. Until then, he'd been the center of his cub's whole world.

He'd been working more over the last two years, and the X-Geeks had been his babysitters of choice. Leonora was always excited to go. And she was always overjoyed when Victor returned, diving into his arms with her sweet calls of 'Papa!'.

Before, Victor had been the only planet in Leo's orbit. Now, the X-Geeks were in there too. He didn't mind, exactly. Sometimes he missed the old days, when it'd been just him and his cub. But now her family was bigger. And she was happier.

Victor wouldn't begrudge her that, even when he missed her.

But it was time now. He'd put it off for nearly two years, even with her intellect growing hungrier and hungrier each moment. He'd said she wasn't ready to be away from home so long. Be away from _him_ so long.

But maybe it was Victor who wasn't ready.

Tomorrow Leonora would go to school.

* * *

**Xavier's School for Exceptional Children**

**Westchester County, New York**

* * *

That sunny, yellow room Jean and Scott had shown them to, the first time around, had remained Leonora's room. The X-Geeks had kept it for her with her frequent visits, knowing one day she would be a student.

Today, instead of a little suitcase, Leonora felt like she'd brought almost everything she owned. Two suitcases and four boxes almost as big as her. Her father had bought her new clothes, new books, new toys – anything he thought she'd needed.

But the thing she'd needed most – knowing she wouldn't see her father again for months – was sealed in a Ziploc bag.

When Victor had finished packing her things last night, Leonora felt ready. But when she thought of being away for so long? Not so much. She'd asked her father what she should do when she missed him.

Victor had replied by sealing one of his shirts in a bag. Something full of her father's scent would surely comfort her when she missed him.

Out of all the things she'd brought, it was that Ziploc bag she needed the most. It was the first thing she unpacked, and carefully hid it away so no one else would find it and mistake it for dirty laundry.

Jean and Scott had helped Leonora and Victor unpack her room in the matter of an hour.

It felt so soon. So final. The young couple had left quickly after to allow them to say goodbye.

Leonora wasn't ashamed to say she cried. Victor had squeezed her tight exactly once, and then he'd been out the door.

That night, she'd slept between Jean and Scott.

**2000**

Leonora adjusted. She always did. She spent her summers at home in Canada with her father, spending much of their time in the woods. The older she got, the more important Victor thought survival skills were.

Every time she thought there was nothing more to learn, her father found something new.

Other than her summers, Leo only saw her father for the holidays. For Thanksgiving and Christmas, Victor came and whisked her home for a short few days together. Gone were the days of seeing him all the time.

Victor worked throughout the year – and his type of work usually meant he would be unreachable. But he never took a job during their summers together. It was only the two of them for three months straight, and Leo knew it was what he preferred. And while Leo missed her friends during that time, she missed her father so much more the rest of the year.

She was twelve now, and she rarely snuck into bed with Jean and Scott anymore. The two were engaged now – and as much as they loved her, she knew she was too old to sleep with them anymore.

But the thing was – Leonora didn't need that much sleep. And she got lonely all by herself while everyone slept. Sleeping with Jean and Scott meant she wasn't by herself. And when she was home, her father slept even less than she did. She never lacked for company.

Leonora never quite found her wavelength with the other children at Xavier's school. They were all older than her, and she'd surpassed them in her studies. She'd earned her high school diploma and the Professor was now helping her with college-level courses.

She spent much of her time on independent studies, reporting to either Jean or the Professor each day with what she'd learned or worked on.

Her fascination was with history and the way humans interacted with each other. Jean had suggested her major be either history or anthropology – or both - but she hadn't decided yet.

Leo also liked working with her hands. There was a small room off the side of the library, filled with broken computers and various other items. When she'd expressed an interest in tinkering, Scott had shown her the How-To section of the library, as well as dug out the old user's manuals for the broken items. Then he'd left her with the simple wish of 'good luck!'.

She wouldn't say she was good at it. But it _interested_ her. She liked the puzzle of pulling the items apart and figuring out how to put it all back together. How to make it _work_.

Weird as things were for Leonora, she was happy.

But things were about to change.

* * *

**January 2001**

* * *

It was a cold and snowy night when he came.

Leonora had never met another Feral besides her father. He'd arrived late in the night with the X-Men and was taken straight to the medical wing.

She'd been able to smell him the moment he entered the school. He'd smelled like _her_. Like her father, but with a strange hint of metal.

Even knowing she shouldn't, Leo took the elevator down to the medical wing. Scott, still in his X-Men suit, was waiting for her when the doors opened. No doubt Jean had warned him she was coming.

"Go to bed, Leo," Scott said firmly, arms crossed over his chest.

"I need to meet him, Scott," she said pleadingly, stepping out of the elevator to tug at his arms.

"Who?"

"The man you brought here. The man like me," she insisted, pouting up at him.

Scott's mouth dropped open. "Like you?" he asked in surprise.

"He smells like me. Like my dad. He's feral," Leonora explained, reaching out to the young man who was like a second father to her.

Scott took her hand without a thought, a gloved thumb brushing fondly over her palm. "We don't know if he could be dangerous yet, Leo. Please trust me," Scott began, holding his other hand up when she opened her mouth to object.

The argument dried up in her throat before she could voice it. "Once we're sure, I'll bring him to meet you, alright? Please promise me you'll stay away until I say," Scott pleaded with her.

His other hand came to rest on her shoulder, giving it an affectionate squeeze. Leo sighed, and after a moment, she nodded. "I'll go back to bed,"

* * *

Logan didn't know where he was. He didn't know if Marie was okay, or where she was, either. Everything was unfamiliar, and overwhelming, and he didn't know how to handle it.

So he'd ran. Without direction until he'd begun to hear voices. Well – one in particular.

A man's voice, who guided him to an elevator and up several floors into what was revealed to be a wood-trimmed manor. Children – teenagers, really – ran this way and that, causing Logan to flatten against the wall to avoid collision.

The voice guided him towards a door across the foyer. As Logan was halfway there, a scent hit his nose. Something familiar, yet not. His head shot up, catching sight of a girl standing at the top of the stairs.

She was young, younger than the other students Logan had seen so far, no more than twelve or thirteen. She had long, rusty-orange hair bound back in a ponytail, and sharp, almost feline features. She was watching him just as he was her.

The girl smelled like he did. And Logan decided he wanted to know why.

He'd taken exactly one step towards her before she'd darted away. He'd been ready to pursue her – until that voice had returned, insisting Logan leave her be and come to the office.

Not having another choice, Logan did.

* * *

It was late in the morning when Scott finally came, the stranger in tow. Leonora hadn't slept at all that night, kept awake by the possibilities of another feral.

Her father had been so sure of himself when he'd told her there were no others.

But she knew he'd once had a brother. A brother he'd all but raised.

And a small part of Leonora wondered if this was him. If the mysterious Logan was Victor's long-lost brother. He smelled like her father. Sort of. There was something familiar in that scent that she couldn't quite identify.

When she hadn't been able to sleep, Leo had gone to her room of broken things. She'd studied a manual for three hours before she'd started working on a toaster that had been broken for longer than she'd been alive.

Scott appeared in her doorway, looking haggard with his reddish hair sticking up in all different directions. Then that man – Logan – had emerged behind him, peering over Scott's shoulder. Leo jumped out of her seat and took Scott's hand, guiding him over to her seat.

Surprised, the young man let the girl pull him around and then push him into the seat she'd abandoned. Leo fondly patted his head before turning to the Feral man.

"You're Logan," she said.

"And you are?" he questioned.

"I'm Leo. I'm like you," Leo answered simply.

Logan lifted an eyebrow. "How are you so sure?"

"You smell like I do. Like my dad does,"

"Your father is like us?"

"Yes,"

"Is he here?" he questioned.

"No. He's working,"

"Are there any more like you here?"

"No. It was just me," Leo said, sounding sad for a moment. Then her expression brightened. "Now you!"

Logan hesitated. "Why did you run from me earlier?" he asked.

"Scott," she answered, glancing back to the young man behind her. He'd all but fallen asleep in the chair, chin propped up on a hand. She turned back to Logan with a knowing look.

"_What_?" he growled.

"I could smell you the moment they brought you here. I tried to see you, but Scott told me to wait. He wanted to be sure you were safe first," Leo explained.

"And now?" Logan asked, flashing the dozing young man a grudging look of respect.

"I trust Scott. And he brought you to me, so he must think you're okay," Leo answered, patting the other man's shoulder.

He jolted upright from the contact, waking up from his light doze. "Alright, Leo?" Scott asked sleepily, a finger swiping beneath his red glasses to wipe at his eyes.

"Yes," she said, squeezing his shoulder. A sudden thought must have struck the young girl – she turned back to Logan with hopeful eyes. "Oh! No one likes to go to the woods with me! Maybe Logan will! Since he's like me!" Leo said hopefully.

Scott began to splutter at the idea. "You're not going to go run off in the woods with a stranger, Leo!"

Lifting a brow, Logan looked down at the girl. "What do you do in the woods?" he asked.

"Run! Camp! Hunt! Fish!" Leo said excitedly.

"It's kinda cold out there for most of that," Logan pointed out.

"Then _run_!" she crowed.

"Leo, are you listening to me?" Scott said, leaning forward to grab her hand. "You are _not_ going to run about the woods alone with a stranger,"

Logan smirked. "Well, I guess you're gonna have to supervise, huh, bub?"

* * *

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**Thanks to icedshadows for your review! Your words mean a lot!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 1**

**Chapter 5**

**Xavier's School for Exceptional Children**

**Westchester County, New York**

**May 2001**

At first, Logan had only agreed to run around the woods with the little Feral girl because Scott had seemed so against it. As much as he liked Leonora, he'd wanted to spite Cyclops more. It had been more than amusing to watch the man try and keep up with them as Logan and Leonora ran through the snowy woods.

Scott had given up after about two weeks. Longer than Logan had expected, really. Leonora seemed to have _limitless_ energy, even for him. He'd quickly found out that she didn't want to _just_ run. She wanted Logan to _catch_ her.

It was hide and seek, so to speak. That was how her father had taught her. _Survival Skills_, she'd said. Logan was beginning to wonder about Leonora's father. What kind of man put his child through those kinds of drills? And for _years_, the way Leo made it sound.

But she adored him. Leo spoke of her father constantly, of how much she missed him. You'd think a child who could have been abused would hate their father.

That left Logan to the conclusion that Leo's father must be just strange.

For all intents and purposes, Leonora Creed seemed to be a normal (for a _mutant_, anyway), happy, and _brilliant_ girl. Her mind moved in leaps and bounds compared to Logan's, her next dangerous, mischievous thought striking her before he'd recovered from the last. As careful as he was with her, Logan didn't have to worry. Leo healed.

The first time the agile girl had fallen, scraping her hands on the ground – he'd immediately smelled blood in the air. By the time, Logan had hauled her up and checked her hands, she'd _healed_ – leaving only bloody smears on her palms.

He'd been dumbfounded, even though he'd known what she was – that she was like him. He'd studied her hands for several long moments – from the pink, new skin on her palms, to the black claws that served as her nails.

Leonora had simply stared at him during his introspection, her face blank. He wondered what she'd thought of him in that moment. If someone had looked at her – the beautiful child she was – and had been cruel. Called her a freak like they had him.

It was a thought that'd filled him with anger, then.

It made Logan even angrier now, after months at Xavier's School – with Rogue, with Jean, and with Leonora.

Rogue was a teenager – she'd found friends, found a _boy_. She didn't have much to say much to him anymore – not after what had happened at the Statue of Liberty. The wounds were still too fresh.

And Jean? She didn't seem like she wanted anything to do with Logan, either. Maybe he'd been getting mixed signals – or he'd been mistaken – but he'd thought Jean liked him. Even if she'd been with Scott. Who'd come off like an unbearable territorial jackass at first – but not so much anymore.

Scott belonged there. With Jean, his perfect mind-reading fiancé, and Leonora – who seemed like their own child, with her matching ginger hair. It made sense, now that Logan knew the story – how Jean and Scott had been the ones to care for Leo as a young child, dropped off by her father so he could work. She was,_ by far_, the youngest student at the school and had a close-knit relationship with her caretakers as a result.

Leonora was the reason Logan had stayed. He'd never known someone like him. She'd been so happy to find him. So understanding, even being a kid.

Maybe Leonora didn't need him. But she _wanted_ him. Somehow, that felt more important. Freedom of choice and all that shit. She had Scott, Jean, and her mysteriously absent father, but Leo still wanted _him_.

Every morning Leo bounced down the stairs to where Logan waited for her, leaning against the bannister. They'd eat breakfast together – mostly meat – and go out onto the grounds for a romp.

Over the last few months, ever since the snow had melted, Logan had begun erecting an obstacle course. Mostly out of rocks, logs, and such – but he'd added a few ropes here and there, something for her to shimmy up, or swing across with.

Logan and Leonora would race across the course a few times before returning inside. Logan to his new gym teacher post, and Leonora to her room of broken things, or to study in the library.

After dinner, Jean and Scott would join them for hide and seek in the woods. Logan always felt like an interloper during these times, but he was the only one who could actually catch Leonora. She was too good at concealing or herself, or too quick for the others to catch her.

After that, they'd go inside and lounge in the common room. Leo would fall asleep leaned up against one of the adults. Most nights, she snuggled up between Scott and Jean. But once in a while, she'd curl up at Logan's side, positioning his heavy arm over her shoulders, as if she knew he'd never presume to do it himself.

Months of feeling isolated from everyone but Leonora left Logan with peculiar feelings. There were enough similarities in their scents, as well as how strongly she smelled of him – after all the time they spent together – that he could almost imagine Leo was _his_.

They looked nothing alike, save for similar hazel eyes. But Logan felt something for her. Felt _beholden_ to her. If she'd been just a little older, he'd have seriously wondered if she'd been his. But she was only twelve, and his memory loss went back fifteen years. He knew for certain she couldn't be his.

* * *

"Hey, kid," Logan called from the door, unlit cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth. Leo glanced up, her bushy ginger hair neatly braided back from her face – Jean's work, most likely. "Whatcha working on today?" he asked, striding inside.

He slid an affectionate hand down her back as he glanced over her shoulder, earning an arch of her back and a pleased noise. Leo held up a circular gadget the size of a dinner plate, a strange thing of twisted and burned metal. It looked ancient – rusted and degraded by age.

"Scott gave this to me to try and fix. I found it in one of his drawers when I was…" she looked up, looking a little guilty.

"Snooping?" Logan suggested, lifting an eyebrow.

Leo nodded. "He said it was his father's. His name was Alex, I think. He was one of the first X-Men,"

"Wow, they go back that far?" he asked.

She nodded again. "The Professor founded the X-Men. In the 60's. Scott said his dad had powers like his, and that this… _thing_ helped him control it,"

Logan gave the gadget an incredulous look, as if wondering if he should take it from her. "Are you sure it's safe for you to work on?" he questioned.

Leo flashed him an amused look. "Unless you or I suddenly have developed the same powers as Scott or his dad, I'm _pretty_ sure," she said, tone full of snark.

Logan rolled his eyes, settling into the chair opposite her. "Really, kid?" the girl only flashed him a knowing look, as if he shouldn't have bothered to ask.

He could hear slight footsteps behind them, but it was Leo who looked up first. It was Jean. He knew it was her by the distinctive scent that'd wafted ahead.

The redhead leaned against the doorjamb, resting a hand on the frame. "Sweetheart, your dad just called. He said he'll be here tomorrow to pick you up,"

Leo's eyes went wide. "_Tomorrow_?" she said in bewilderment. "That's a week early!" she sprang from her seat, confusion turning to excitement. Jean gave a shrug.

"He must have finished up a job early," the redhead offered. "You should go get packed up, kiddo," she said, gesturing for the girl to head out. Leo didn't need any more prompting than that, scampering past her in the doorway. "Don't forget your summer reading list! I left it on your dresser!" Jean called out, hardly seeming ruffled by the girl's swift exit.

Logan got to his feet slowly, feeling whiplash from the turn of events. He'd expected to have another week to say goodbye to the girl who'd become so dear to his heart. A day? Only a day? He didn't know if he could take it.

He turned to the door, surprised to see Jean was still there. "Tell me something, red," Logan began. "What's her father like?" he questioned.

The expression that twisted Jean's face seemed answer enough to him. "He's a dangerous man. To everyone but Leo," she admitted.

"You're sure of that? That he wouldn't – _hasn't_ – harmed her?"

"It's the one thing I'm sure of,"

* * *

Leonora had been peering out the curtains for the better part of an hour, eagerly awaiting her father's arrival. Her suitcases were packed, sitting by the door. A canvas bag full of books that Jean had assigned for summer reading.

Jean, Scott and Logan sat nearby. Jean and Scott always sent her off, but Logan had decided he wanted to be there to say goodbye. Storm had kindly covered his gym class which allowed him to accomplish his secondary goal – meet Leonora's father.

His concern for the girl was primary – but Logan also desperately wanted to meet another feral. An adult one, who likely knew more about the whole thing than Logan or Leo did.

The ginger-haired girl let out an uncharacteristic squeal, startling the three adults. "He's here!" Leonora cried, darting towards the door and flinging it open as she ran out to meet him.

Jean jogged out on the girl's heels to keep an eye on her as Scott went to gather her bags. Logan got up to assist him, plucking up the heavy bag of books.

Before going out the door, Logan pulled the curtain aside. A swarthy man with dark hair and sideburns had emerged from the truck. He grinned, showing an unnatural amount of sharp teeth as Leo pounced – diving into his arms. The fingers he saw clasped around the girl boasted claws not unlike her own.

Logan sucked in a deep breath, stepping outside.

The other man's head shot up, nostrils flaring. His face filled with disbelief, then something almost like fear. He clutched his daughter closer to him before shoving her towards the truck, gruffly ordering her to get in.

Looking startled, Leo did as her father told her.

"Yer supposed to be dead! I saw the bullet go in myself!" Victor Creed growled.

Logan's brows furrowed, setting down Leo's bag. "You know me?"

Jean stepped forward, looking just as confused. "Mr. Creed, you know our new teacher, Mr. Logan?" she said in a soft tone, trying to diffuse the suddenly dangerous atmosphere.

"His name ain't Logan and he ain't no teacher!" Victor yelled, pointing an accusing finger at them all. He began to advance on Jean, Scott raising a hand to his glasses.

"Papa?" a small voice came. Victor froze in his pursuit. "What's wrong?" Leo questioned, having climbed back out of the truck.

"Nothing, cub. Jean and I are just talking – get back in the truck and wait for me," he ordered.

"But I haven't said goodbye!" the twelve-year-old protested.

Victor never turned to face her, instead emitting a low, warning growl that had Leonora scrambling back into the truck. The growl itself had been too low for Jean or Scott to hear, but the other two ferals had heard it clear as day.

Logan didn't know what to do with himself. Victor Creed knew him. The _old_ him. And seemed to hate him. _Why_?

Victor sighed, lifting his eyes to meet Jean's. "I trusted you with my cub," he growled.

"She's never been in any danger," Jean said in bewilderment. "Logan would never hurt her,"

The feral man just shook his head, striding over to Scott and yanking the little suitcases from his hand. He turned his head in Logan's direction. "You ever come near my cub again, I'll rip you limb from fucking limb," Victor warned before heading back to his truck.

He walked around and opened the driver door, tossing the suitcases into the back before he climbed in and started the truck.

The three adults watched as Leonora slumped against the window, her sad face filling their sight. She waved sadly as the truck backed out and sped down the road.

Logan raised his hands to his hair, beginning to pull at it in distress. "_What. The. Fuck?_"

* * *

**Review, please tell me what you think!**

**Thanks to icedshadows for your review! Your words mean a lot!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Part 1**

**Chapter 6**

**The Canadian Wilds**

**June 2001**

The smoldering fire glowed orange in the darkness. Leonora rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms, enjoying the warmth it emitted. She didn't feel the cold much, but she still enjoyed the fire's warmth.

"Papa?" she called quietly. Leo couldn't see him, but she could feel him. Smell him.

He was close.

Probably circling their little campsite, like he always did.

"Cub," Victor's rumbly voice came. His considerable bulk settled behind her. She leaned back into him, feeling warmer still for the furnace-like heat he radiated. His claws pinched gently at the back of her neck like he had since she was a little girl.

Leonora relaxed, her eyes closing as she sank back into him. "What happened, back at school?" she asked. His large body behind her tensed. "Why don't you like Logan?" Leo added.

Her father was quiet for a long time, body stiff. His fingers had stilled against the back of her neck. "Did you like him?" Victor finally asked.

She couldn't help but notice how he'd avoided answering her question. She nodded after a long moment.

"Why?" he questioned.

"He was always nice to me. He understands me. What's it like to be like us. Scott and Jean don't, as much as they want to. He'd run with me out in the woods. Hunt. Fish. All the stuff we do," Leonora explained. "I wasn't so lonely, with him there," she said in a small voice.

She could feel his eyes on her. He could see better than she could in the blackness of the night. He'd promised her eyes would get stronger the older she got, but they hadn't yet. His claws began to knead again at her neck, never breaking the skin. Sharp as his claws were, they'd never cut her. Not on accident, never on purpose.

"You were lonely?" Victor asked, voice low and gruff.

Leo knew her father was uncomfortable talking about emotions. But he'd try. Because she knew he loved her, even if he didn't say it.

She nodded slowly. "The kids there don't like me. I'm too young. Too smart. Too weird," Leonora admitted.

"Fuck 'em," her father said tersely. His arm snaked around her neck, tugging her closer. "That's rich comin' from them. They're mutants, just like you and me."

"I know," Leo mumbled against his arm, resting her head upon it. The movement had her father drawing her even closer. "It doesn't bother me much. I just wish I had one friend my age," she told him, a certain wistfulness to her voice.

He didn't hear it often. He prided himself on his daughter wanted for nothing. He could buy her anything she wanted in the world. So far, it'd just been books. That's all his daughter wanted. Books. But he couldn't buy her friends. Not the kind she'd want.

"That's why I like Logan. He likes me. He likes to do the things I like to do. He's like you, Papa," Leonora told him.

There was a long silence that followed where she'd expected him to say something. But he didn't. Victor was quiet, simply holding his daughter close.

"Why were you mad at him, Papa? Do you know him?" Leonora asked again.

"Yes." Victor said in a clipped tone. "But he doesn't know me. Not anymore."

"He told me he lost his memory. Fifteen years ago," Leo said. "I know you used to have a brother, Papa. I thought maybe Logan was him. He smells so much like us,"

Victor tensed again, somehow unsurprised how close his daughter was to the truth.

"His name was Jimmy Howlett. He was my half-brother," he confessed.

"I was right?" Leo breathed in surprise. "Then why were you so angry?"

His jaw worked, trying to find the words that his daughter would understand. That she wouldn't hate him for. "I'm a better man than I used to be, cub. I was a bad man and I hurt people,"

"You're a good man, Papa," Leo interrupted, turning her face towards his.

"I'm not, cub, I'm really not," Victor said quietly.

Leo was quiet for a long moment. Her father had never lied to her before. If he said it was true, she believed him. "But you're a good Papa," she said in an oddly serious tone. There was no arguing with that tone that sounded so much like his.

Victor couldn't help the smirk that lifted his features. He rubbed his furry chin fondly against the top of her head. A pleased noise left his cub. "Maybe I'm a good Papa, cub, but I'm a bad man. And I did things that would make people want revenge on me. I hurt someone that Jimmy loved," he told her.

"And he hasn't forgiven you?" Leonora asked, wriggling her body closer. Her father took the hint, his other arm wrapping around her and cradling her close.

The closeness felt comfortable for the two ferals. They were blood. They were pack. Victor was her father and Alpha, and she knew without a doubt that he would protect her. There was nowhere she felt safer than in her father's arms. Her animal knew his animal, knew instinctively that he would do _anything_ to protect her.

Nothing felt more natural than to crawl into her father's arms.

"No. What I did was unforgiveable," Victor said.

"But he doesn't remember," she pointed out.

"Maybe," he said. "But I don't trust that."

"You think he wants revenge." Leo guessed. "He couldn't hurt you. You both heal,"

"He could hurt _you_. That would hurt more than anything he could do to me," her father told her. Leo couldn't help but wriggle her arms out from where they were pressed to his chest to wrap them around him.

"I don't think he'd do that," Leonora said quietly. "But I understand what you mean,"

A long, quiet moment followed. She opened her mouth to say something, but Victor gave her a little shake. "Enough talking, cub. Go to sleep," he growled.

The subject was closed.

He'd spoken about it longer than Leo had really expected. She couldn't really protest. So she just nestled her head in the crook of her father's arm and closed her eyes.

Sleep came swiftly.

**Xavier's School for Exceptional Children**

**Westchester County, New York**

**July 2001**

"Where are you going?" Logan questioned. He'd caught the pair down on the basement level, heading towards the Blackbird's hangar.

It'd been a quiet summer. Unbearable. He'd taken off a few times, but never for more than a few days. He'd felt the immediate need to return as soon as he'd left.

Perhaps he was hoping Leonora had returned. With her father, even though Logan didn't much want to see him. He just wanted the answers the man had.

Sometimes he wasn't even sure of that. But he wanted Leonora back here again. He missed her. Missed the feeling of belonging.

The others in the mansion had been quiet towards him. They hadn't known what to think just as he hadn't. If Logan was someone _Victor Creed_ deemed dangerous, they had better watch out.

The Professor had brushed it off when Logan had asked, even though he'd still seemed concerned. He'd told Logan that feral mutants were territorial, towards their homes and especially their young.

He'd compared it to a pride of lions. How an invading male lion would kill off the young of another male in order to take over the pride. The Professor had said it was instinctual. Animal instinct.

Logan wasn't sure whether he should be offended or not, being so directly compared to an animal.

The staff was worried that Leonora wouldn't be allowed to return to school as a result of Logan and Victor's meeting.

Jean sighed, glancing at Scott. "We're going to visit Leo and her father. We're hoping we can convince him to let Leo come back to school in the fall," she admitted finally.

"This is my fault," Logan said. "Let me straighten it out. Let me come with," he pleaded.

Scott was already shaking his head and Jean's expression reflected the same. "We think that would be a bad idea. Whatever happened between you and Victor is…volatile, Logan. It's never easy to have a calm discussion with him, but if you are there, it will be impossible," the redhead said gently.

"That's crap," Logan growled. "And don't you dare bring up that animal instinct bull – we're not animals!"

"The Professor could have asked you to leave," Scott said suddenly, surprising the other two. "But he chose not to. He thinks you're an asset here, Logan. But it's not for diplomacy," he told him bluntly. "Jean and I have been caring for Leonora since she was eight years old. We've known her since she was six. If we have any hope of getting Victor to allow her to come back to school, it's got to be us,"

Logan stared down at his feet, his fists clenching. He could feel the blades pushing at the skin in his hands. He forced his hands to relax, the itch going away. "Then tell him I'll leave, if that's what he wants. I won't take away this school from her, even if I never see her again,"

"Logan, it won't come to that," Jean said softly. "You just need to be patient,"

A growl left his throat without meaning to. "I've been tryin', Jean, but it's running out,"

"Please," she said in a tone softer yet. "Please just wait,"

**Canadian Wilds**

**3 days later**

They were waiting for them. In front of their cabin – they hadn't dared to enter. When Victor and his daughter had emerged from the woods after a weeklong stint in the wild, there the X-Geeks were.

Uninvited and unwanted.

"Jean! Scott!" Leonora called, starting towards the two with a big grin. Victor caught her by the collar, towing her back to his side. His girl crossed her arms over her chest, flashing him a sullen look.

Victor had known when they'd arrived three days ago, but he'd seen no reason to cut their camping trip short. He was lucky Leonora's sense of smell wasn't as strong as his, or she would have bothered him relentlessly until they returned home early.

Jean and Scott looked rough. Tired. Disheveled. Victor was pleased.

"You two are on my land. Uninvited," Victor said, growl in his voice.

"Papa!" Leo protested, tugging at the hand clasped tight to her collar.

"Mr. Creed, please, let's just have a talk. We're here because we care about Leonora, just like you," Jean said pleadingly.

Victor turned his eyes to his daughter, who was shooting him big, begging eyes. "Go inside, cub. Get cleaned up," he ordered, releasing her.

Leonora shot her father a dirty look, starting towards the cabin. She darted over to Jean and Scott, giving them a quick squeeze each before running inside, chased by a loud, warning growl from her father.

Once she was safely inside – and not peering out a window – Victor finally spoke. "I want you to leave."

Jean shook her head, biting her lip. "Creed, do you really think we were risking Leo's life? You know we love her. You know we'd never put her in danger," Scott said, taking his fiancé's hand.

"The moment that man entered the school, you should have called me. As far as I'm concerned, you should never have let a stranger into your school," Victor said in a calm and measured tone.

"The school is a haven for all mutants, not just children. And Leonora was _never_ in danger. We watched Logan carefully before even allowing them to meet!" Jean told him.

"Your daughter knew the moment that Logan stepped into that school. She tried to see him then, but I turned her away, made her promise me that she would not approach him. And she didn't, not until Jean, the Professor and I were sure he couldn't harm her," Scott recited.

Victor let out a frustrated noise. "Logan adores her, Creed. Whatever history you two had, it's gone. He doesn't remember you. Doesn't remember whatever happened. Whatever bad blood you two had, you have no reason to fear. Logan's not the type to hurt a child to get back at her father – especially when he can't remember the reason you think he should want to," Jean told him.

"Watch your mouth, frail. You're speaking of things you know nothin' about," Victor growled.

"We may not know your side, Creed, but we know Logan's. He's not a perfect man, but he's honest," Scott said, a protective arm around Jean.

"Leonora needs to go to school, Mr. Creed. You know how brilliant she is. If you keep her away, she'll never have a chance to thrive as she has with us. There is no other school on the planet that welcomes mutants. No other schools that can help Leo study what she wants and become whatever she wants," Jean pleaded with him.

"I know you love her, it's the only reason you're doing this, but you don't need to fear for her safety,"

Victor's expression remained unchanged, his arms crossing over his chest. His eyes darted to a window, seeing a curtain flicker as it was cracked open.

"Logan said he'd leave, if that's what it takes," Scott said suddenly. "He wants to be a part of Leo's life, but he wants her to go to school more. He'll leave, if that's what you need,"

It was at that moment that the wind changed direction, carrying a familiar scent his way. A sudden fury began to run through him. "If that's true, the why can I _smell_ the motherfucker like he's here? Did you bring him _here_?" Victor growled.

Jean and Scott traded a bewildered look. "No, Creed, we _swear_-"

From the dirt path that led to the clearing where they'd landed the Blackbird, the two X-Men now heard footsteps, boots scuffing along the ground. Louder than he was known to walk – perhaps purposely, warning them of his presence.

Logan emerged from the path, eyes wary.

Victor's teeth were bared in an outright snarl. "Logan, what are you _doing_?!" Jean hissed, looking almost as furious as Leonora's father did. "We told you to wait! Stay at the mansion!"

"I couldn't," was all Logan could say. "Mr. Creed-" he said, turning towards the seething Feral. Logan took exactly one step before a thunderous, warning growl ripped from Creed's throat.

"How _dare_ ya come here," Victor said. "I told _you_ if ya came near my cub again, I'd rip ya limb from limb,"

Logan held up a hand. "Hold on, bub-"

The front door of the cabin slammed open, Leonora standing in the entryway. Her ginger hair was still dripping wet from the hasty shower she'd taken, and she'd quickly thrown on a t-shirt and shorts when she'd heard the yelling start.

The moment that door opened, everything stopped. Victor froze in his very place – as violent a man as he was, he had no wish for his daughter to see him like that. "Papa, _stop_," Leonora said in a very calm, serious tone. She'd barely taken one step before her father swept towards her.

"Go back inside!" Victor barked. Leonora shook her head, biting her lip nervously. "Now!"

"No, Papa," she said in a very quiet voice.

After a brief moment of surprise, Victor reached for his daughter's arm when another rumbly voice interrupted. "You lay a hand on that girl, I'll have to stop you," Logan pointed out.

Leonora watched in horror as absolute rage appeared on her father's features. Something she'd never seen before. A sudden pain hit like a spike in her brain. She winced, raising a hand to her forehead.

"You think yer her father now? Well, I hate to break it to ya, but she's _my_ cub. You wanna come between us? Fine, but then I'll have to kill ya." Victor growled.

"Papa, please," Leonora said in a small voice. She winced again, but no-one seemed to notice.

Logan started over, only for Jean and Scott to move between the two Ferals. "Try me, Bub," Logan retorted.

"This is a mistake, you're going to traumatize Leo!" Scott warned, hand going to his goggles.

"You gonna shoot me, X-Geek?"

The pain in Leonora's head was only getting worse. "_Stop_," she cried, hands clapping to her head as voices began to ring in her ears.

"Cub?" Victor said in concern, turning finally to put a hand on her back. The other three adults were starting towards them. "Leonora, what's wrong?" he questioned, tugging gently at one of her arms.

"_Stop_!" she whimpered again, her fingers digging painfully into her ears. "_STOP FIGHTING!" _ Leonora screamed when a sudden invisible blast knocked everyone off their feet but Jean.

The redhead had felt the blast blow past her, but her mental shields had kept her from feeling it. She started towards Leonora, whose back had bowed, hands still clamped over her ears. "Leo!" Jean called, crossing the distance even quicker as she saw the girl begin to crumple.

Victor came to his senses just in time to catch her, lowering her gently to the ground. "Cub!" he growled, shaking her gently. Leonora's arms fell to her sides, revealing blood trailing from her ear.

Jean reached the two, taking Leonora's face gently in her hands, turning it to the side to see a matching trail of blood from the other ear.

"What in the _hell_ just happened!?" Victor demanded, looking up at the telepath.

"A Psionic blast," Jean breathed in amazement. More blood had begun to trickle from Leonora's nose.

Victor slowly got to his feet, heaving his daughter's limp body up into his arms. "Did you do it?" he questioned. Logan had gotten to his feet and started to help an unsteady Scott up as well. The two men approached, peering over in concern.

"No… it was her," Jean answered, sharing a bewildered look with Victor. "Leo has a second mutation,"

* * *

**Nice long one for you!**

**Please leave me a review! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Part 1**

**Chapter 7**

**The Canadian Wilds**

It'd been six painful hours and Leonora hadn't woken.

Victor had immediately taken his daughter inside and tucked her into bed, taking up a watch post in the chair beside it. Jean had lovingly cleaned the blood from her ears and nose after she'd carefully examined Leo's unconscious mind.

Leonora would be alright. But her new mutation had burst out in a moment of stress and the strain had short-circuited her brain. Jean hadn't been able to detect any psychic damage, but it was possible Leo's healing factor had already seen to it. She'd said it was just a matter of time till Leonora woke.

This was what Victor had feared. Another mutation. A psychic one, to boot. Life was hard enough with just one mutation. Now Leonora would have to grow used to living with and controlling another.

Leonora would be going back to school. Any other choice had been taken from them. Victor couldn't help her learn how to deal with a psychic power. Only Jean or the Professor could.

In the madness and worry of the day, Victor had allowed the others to enter his home. Even Logan. He didn't trust any of them farther than he could throw them – which was far – but he couldn't deal with kicking them off his land right now.

Victor needed his focus to be on his cub.

"Hey," a gruff voice called. Logan. _Jimmy_.

Victor glanced up from his cub's peaceful face, a hand resting atop her hair. "What," he said tersely.

"Jean made some coffee," the other man said, offering a mug. Victor shook his head. "Fair enough," Logan said, sipping from it himself.

Victor had expected him to leave then, but he didn't. A long, quiet and uncomfortable silence followed. "It's clear we've got history,"

Victor snorted.

"You know who I am. _Was_. Whatever. You don't think I deserve to know that?" Logan said bluntly – finally.

"Your name was James Howlett. But I always called you Jimmy," Victor said, turning his gaze back to his daughter. "You were born a quarter of a mile from this spot, in 1832. You and me, we share a father. Piece of shit that he was,"

Logan took in a sharp breath. He slid to the floor, staring down at his hands for several long moments. "I have a _name_," he said, perhaps more to himself than anyone else. "A family," he said softer.

Victor never looked away from his cub. He stroked the soft, russet locks atop her head. Leonora's eyes darted beneath the lids, clearly deep in the throes of a dream. He was tempted to wake her – to end his worry – but didn't dare. He could stand the agony a little longer.

"You're my brother. Leo's my niece," Logan said, directing the words at Victor. "If we're family, why do you hate me so much? Why do you think I'd hurt Leo? What kind of _man_ was I?" he questioned.

Victor sighed, reluctantly looking away from Leonora. "You were always the good one. _I _was always the bad one. You and me, we fought in every war. It was the only thing we knew how to do. Fight. Couldn't die, which helped. Eventually we started working for the US government, on an elite team with other mutants. Things got bad. You left. I stayed," Victor began to explain.

"You wanted to settle down. Found yourself a little woman. The man we worked for – Stryker, he sent me to get you to come back. Things got bad."

"How bad?" Logan asked.

"I tricked you. Made you think I killed that woman, but she was working for Stryker, too. So you went back to Stryker. He made you _that_," Victor said, gesturing vaguely at him.

Logan looked down at himself. "The claws?"

"No, you always had those. Yours were bone, though. Stryker made them adamantium. Your whole skeleton,"

"I agreed to that?" Logan asked in bewilderment.

"Yes." Victor said stiffly.

"_Why_?" he demanded.

"Because you wanted to kill me." Victor answered simply, watching the play of emotions cross the other man's face. "And you and me, we've always been evenly matched. Can't die and all that. Stryker convinced you that you'd be able to kill me once you had metal bones,"

"How'd I lose my memory?" Logan asked.

"I don't know."

"You said you thought I was dead."

"I saw you with a bullet in your head. You weren't moving. No heartbeat. No nothing. I got out of there."

A soft noise left the girl. Both men's gazes snapped to her. Logan got up to his feet, peering over at her. Leonora hadn't woken, but she'd stirred. Sighed in her sleep. Sleepy hands raised to her head, taking hold of her father's hand and pulled it to her chest. She shifted, over to her side, hugging Victor's hand to her chest.

The man smiled down at her, regardless of the uncomfortable way his arm was curled. Logan watched them quietly for a moment. There was no sign of the violent, vicious man he'd seen outside when he was gazing down at his daughter.

As bad a man as Victor Creed claimed to be, he loved his daughter.

"Victor," Logan said. The other man's gaze shot up – hearing his brother say his name for the first time in more than fifteen years. "Whatever happened between us all those years ago, it's over. It's done. Leonora will be okay. And between you and me, she'll always be protected," he told him.

Some sort of emotion crossed Victor's face, but it flitted away as quickly as it came. He gave a stiff nod and turned back to his daughter.

Logan left the room, heading for the door. "Come and get me when Leo wakes up," he told Scott and Jean as he left.

Jean appeared in the doorway a moment later. "Is it true, then? Logan's your brother?" she asked curiously.

"You heard everything, frail. Don't pretend otherwise," Victor growled in response.

"Alright, alright," Jean said, raising her hands in surrender as she wandered back to the kitchen area.

Victor brushed the hair from Leonora's face, leaning forward to press his lips to her forehead. "Wake up, cub,"

**X**

It took another three hours for Leonora to finally wake. It was quiet, with Victor finally starting to doze off beside her, his hand still clutched to her chest. "Papa," she mumbled, eyes starting to flutter.

Victor leapt to attention, his hand slipping from her grip. "Cub," he called softly, cupping her face gently. Jean appeared in the room, leaning over his shoulder.

"Papa, stop yellin'," she muttered sleepily, eyes still half-closed. "_Papa_," Leo whined, hands clamping over her ears.

Victor cast an incredulous look over his shoulder to Jean. "I haven't said anything," he said in alarm.

"It's your thoughts," Jean said, a look of understanding dawning on her features. "Her hearing is already so sensitive that what is a normal volume to me sounds like you're shouting T her," she explained.

Leonora's face was contorting into a grimace, her fingers bracing harder against her ears. "_Papa_," she whimpered again. Her legs had begun to kick at the sheets, her distress only growing.

"Can you help her?" Victor questioned urgently.

Jean nodded, moving around him to lay a hand on Leonora's brow. In an instant, the girl's tense body relaxed, her hands falling away from her head. She heaved a heavy sigh.

"I blocked the telepathy off, but it won't last long. We have to explain to her what's going on, and I need to begin teaching her right away how to block people's thoughts out on her own," Jean explained.

Victor nodded, reaching out and shaking Leonora's shoulder. "Wake up, cub,"

**X**

Leonora had taken the news with grace. Just like Victor knew she would. His cub accepted it. He'd watched her tiny shoulders slump once she'd realized the gravity of the situation.

The combined thoughts of just three people had overwhelmed her fragile senses, producing that blast that had knocked them all off their feet.

That meant going to the school was both necessary and dangerous at the same time. To Leo, to the other children. Leonora could be overwhelmed by the crowd and their thoughts and lash out in the same way.

Hurt herself and others.

It'd been quickly decided that Jean would stay the rest of the summer to work with Leonora on getting her mental shields in place. No one really liked it, but all adults had agreed it was what was best for Leonora.

Scott and Logan had agreed to return to the school in the morning – the latter much more reluctantly. The goal was to leave the home as empty as possible so Leonora could adjust. Victor, of course, wasn't going anywhere. He didn't trust Jean enough to leave his troubled cub.

But Jean had said having him there would be good for Leonora. Not to mention the comfort of having her father there, having one mind nearby for Leo to get used to the hum of would _help_. He would just have to steer clear while they were training unless otherwise told.

**X**

The next morning before Scott and Logan left, the four adults were having an informal breakfast when Leonora emerged from her room. The two ferals glanced up at the strange smell of blood that entered the room with the young girl.

"Did you hurt yourself?" Victor asked, starting to rise.

Leonora shook her head, fingers fisting into the bottom of her t-shirt. "Jean… I need you," she mumbled. The woman got to her feet and started towards her.

"What is it, Leo?" Jean asked.

Her fingers continued to worry at the hem of her shirt, her eyes on the floor. She looked embarrassed. "Umm…I got my period," she said quietly.

"Oh," the redhead said in surprise. Jean changed direction to grab her bag and follow Leo back into her room.

Scott, Logan and Victor traded uneasy looks. "Her first?" Scott asked. Victor nodded, brow creased.

After a few minutes, Leonora's door opened again and Jean stuck her head out. "One of you strong, manly men are going to have to go to the closest store. I've only got a few pads in my purse and they're not going to last long," she said with a teasing tone.

The three men looked at each other, expressions typically uncertain and uncomfortable. Scott sighed. "I'll go. Write me a list?" he said, getting to his feet.

Jean flashed her fiancé a grin. "You got it,"

* * *

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